


audentes fortuna iuvat

by thatskyquill



Category: The Exorcist (1973)
Genre: (but old-younger man if you know what i mean), (mention of the word "slut" and degrading equivalent but not much shaming), Ambiguous/Open Ending, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Crack, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Enthusiastic Consent, Erotica, Explicit Sexual Content, Finger Sucking, M/M, Masochism, Older Man/Younger Man, Oral Sex, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Praise Kink, Spitefic, Unrealistic Sex, dirty talking
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-02-21
Updated: 2020-02-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 04:01:26
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22390702
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thatskyquill/pseuds/thatskyquill
Summary: PLEASE READ THE TAGS AND AUTHOR’S NOTES. Although this fic cannot include a comprehensive list of trigger warnings, it includes all of the tags. That being said, it is best to raise caution if you suffer from a trigger of your own. I hold no liabilities if you choose to expose yourself to the content without thoroughly examining the warnings.—Destroy the agony and vanquish the pain
Comments: 2
Kudos: 7





	audentes fortuna iuvat

**Author's Note:**

  * For [FatherDad (formerly) from Discord — many many thanks for the occasional proofreading](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=FatherDad+%28formerly%29+from+Discord+%E2%80%94+many+many+thanks+for+the+occasional+proofreading).



> 1\. No religious elements, instruments, recitations, and metaphors are used in a sexual manner.
> 
> 2\. As iterated by fanlore.org, “you see the tropes and concepts tagged here? they are going to appear in this fic. exactly as said. there will not necessarily be any subversion, authorial commentary condemning problematic aspects, or meditation on potential harm. this fic contains dead dove. if you proceed, you should expect to encounter it.”
> 
> 3\. This fic is not canon in any way and does not take into account any plot holes.
> 
> 4\. Do not imitate anything in this fic in real life.
> 
> Last of all, title is in Latin "Fortune favors the bold".
> 
> around 4am May 13: Added satisfactory details.

For a long time, a bottle of medicine, a vial of holy water, and a pair of glasses laid on the basin, religious clothes and the important book on the toilet. Across them huddled two men, one sitting on the bathtub’s ledge, the other on his knees with his mouth taking his colleague to the balls. Though it is wrinkled and withered with age, he found it flavoured like a gourmet-level meal, stuffing just right inside his throat, its arousal like additive sprinkles on icing. Closing his eyes, taking in nothing but the entrenching sexual smell and the bittersweet yet appetizing taste, Karras’ mouth slid back and forth across the length, licking away any subsequent moisture and thus drawing out the elder’s low groans over and over. Simultaneously his hands pawed on the elder man’s thighs to fuck his own throat deeper.

He was almost choking. Good. Choke the air out of him, stimulate his vocal cords, extract every ounce of pleasure out of his little mouth! Out went the sweet oxygen, in went the sweeter nectar. A carnal flame danced wildly amidst his neurons, trickled down the crown of his skull, slithered down his waist, ensnared his thighs, burrowed deep into the forbidden parts, and intensified the pressure in his pants. The more it bulged the more moisture he craved, and the fluid his mouth had acquired added fuel all over again. A flame, and that was all. He didn’t want to start a fire that would end up scorching them down to ashes, so he froze in place, serving of whom he is in awe, aware of the allure of wanting more but never giving in. Talk about being fucked in the mouth and by your own hand, but he had already crossed a line at one behest and couldn’t do it again at another. Yet he couldn’t help but wonder what it’s like to stuff a finger up his own ass and stroke another across his own cock, up and down, and slowly ... The less he touched, the more his body demanded, the faster his mouth swallowed up then licked back down.

He tried to go deeper. It filled up his mouth and closed his airways. He could feel the moisture smearing the sensitive insides of his throat, and licked up more with his hungry tongue while swallowing at the same time. His lips sealed themselves and smoothly slid back, drawing out two disharmonized yet unified, intoxicated groans: a deep one relishing in the lacking air, a deeper one from the received pleasure. His mouth arrived at the head and Karras had an idea. He simply nipped there, rolling it in his tongue, sucking like it’s a lollipop. Occasionally his mouth thrust in a little but drew out again. Fr. Merrin gasped and spoke in a daze, “Of your talented, innovative, mouth-work … I am deeply impressed.”

In response, his mouth left with a _pop_ with a thin thread of saliva gleaming in the air, his eyes answered with a faux innocent and wantoning stare, his tongue ran slowly along his bottom lip and curled up to collect the thread. His mouth still agape, he leaned forward and kissed the head, his mouth enveloped it, and once again his throat devoured it deeper and deeper. As he raised his head for convenience, he realized Merrin’s stunned stare at him and without looking away dared to jerk his head forward — bringing a jump in Merrin’s breath — experiencing a brief oxygen cutoff. He tried again, except this time letting the near entire length sit in his warm throat, vibrated by his breath, and indulged by his tongue, while his hand stroked what little remains in the open air and occasionally the aroused balls. Merrin’s dazed stare and uncryptably indifferent expression made his hand tremble as the arousal fought ever so ferociously against his self-restraint.

Smug, he jerked his head again, this time rougher, feeling the dick’s harder impact and tighter compression against his airway; it was exhilarating. He did it again and again, his throat fucked at the whims of what belongs to his superior, his hair flopping from each motion and his eyes closed from the rushing high and heightening erotic sensation. Drool and precum flowed down his cheek and won’t stop. His rationalization and desire broke out in a war. Oh, to have his cock caressed, stroked, pumped, or squeezed by a skillful hand, or welcomed into another pair of lips and constricting throat; to have another set of fingers, rough and male, stuffing into his ass, exploring his rims and everything beyond, one two three digits inserting inside, pumping with rhythmic force — better if it was another cock instead of the fingers, thrusting into his tight and pulsing opening, with said hand jerking and withdrawing to forevermore entrap him in the wantoning state; to have a free hand gripping his hip to stabilize him — an elder, experienced hand known for gesticulating with conviction … Yes, stuffed with _his_ wrinkled cock and held in place by _his_ slender, aged hands, was an irresistible fantasy.

But he was losing enough dignity and should be glad for what he currently gained.

But _no_ , he wanted it. But _no_ , he mustn’t have it. But _no_ , he wanted it. If he could have it just once —

 _SHUT UP!_ he begged at his raw impulsion as he forced more down his throat, in the process whining from the air he was losing. His eyes rolled. So much pleasure —

“ _Damien._ ” He realized with bits of consciousness that a hand rested in his hair, absentmindedly gripping it, stroking it. Above him comes sighs and grunts, as the hand forcefully moved him down an inch. “ _Easy._ ” Merrin huffed.

It was easier to breathe, but the asphyxiation was getting to him. He had to retreat voluntarily, breathing thickly for any air he could get. The organ was elongating yet all he could do was gnawing it like a sausage, assisting with his hand, more precum dripping down his chin than into his mouth. “You’re doing so well.” His matted hair was stroked and rubbed, a warmth reverberating inside his skull. He purred happily, earning a chuckle from the other. “Look at you, so worked up …” Merrin’s hand cupped his face, brushing the cheek so softly. “I can feel it coming. It feels so good in your mouth, everything from your tongue to your vibrating vocal cords.” His hand moved back to gripping his hair. His voice grew heavier, thicker, and disrupted by uneven pants. “Even using them for just the tip is enough. You have prepared me so well that I’m afraid I’ll release without stretching your throat. Oh, you’re pushing me to the edge, Damien, admiringly without much work.” Abruptly Karras went forward and then back to where he began. “Ah! Don’t push yourself like that … You’re already a masterpiece, so beautiful sitting on your knees, taking my _cock_ .” More precum leaked into his mouth, more dribbled down, and more of his own soaked thoroughly through his clothing. His impulse was begging, begging, begging. “What a pretty sight you are. A pretty sight _we_ are … And wouldn’t it … enrage the demon so much? To see us filthily pleasuring ourselves, reducing its shame to _ash_.”

 _Yes. Pleasure._ Karras freed his mind. _To pleasure myself is to have my hole opened wide by your manhood, pounded by it, filled by it, over and over and over, with your breaths closely behind me whispering like this, with your rough hands making sure I can do naught but crash into its intoxication, admit I desperately and depravedly want it, crave it, and I crave more, I crave for your cock; pound into me cum into me —_

He was able to take the entire length again — “ _Ngh!_ ” — sweet drops rolling down his tongue and throat — “You’re unbelievable …” — and the choking sensation pulled his pants ever so taut. Too tight. He needed to unzip it. But that would have consequences. His hand stopped in time on his thigh, and the skin under it instantly became warm, subsequently firing up his entire body. The flames felt real.

Focus. He was supposed to serve for his superior, not himself. So he diligently jerked his head back and forth, retreating his hand and pressing it to the floor because he swallowed so much, as the gasp above intensified and thickened into groaning and grunting combined with screams of his name and affirmation, as more precum, thickening into a stream, poured into his mouth, as the grip on his hair shifted to cover the back of his head, pressing forward, beckoning him further into the frenzy.

His name, pronounced in a low pitch with carnal desire, dissolved into overwhelmed moans and groans, which ended with a gasp and began again, fainter and fainter. Meanwhile, he swallowed it all and licked up every single drop. So much flowed down his chin, some down his neck and soaked a tiny portion of his shirt collar. Thank goodness they had taken down their clerical collars. As he licked clean and leaned away, he licked his own lips, wiped at his chin with his already soaked hand and casually slid an index finger into his own mouth. Looking at a recovering Merrin in the eyes, who had turned back after obtaining a toilet paper and was cleaning himself, he slid in another finger and sucked to the knuckles.

The other looked back with admiring eyes. His mouth slowly fell open.

The water was bittersweet, but sweet at most. True, it was a body fluid and tasted like one, but also like a juice delicious enough to hunger for the last drops on his lips, to churn his stomach, to ignite his hunger, which awakened once more and called for satiation. He inserted a third finger and groaned, sucked it clean and moved onto his knuckles, while his free hand found its way on his bulge and flattened, no, pressed its palm against it. It was exhilarating. Instinctively it rubbed back and forth, back and forth —

“Not so fast.” It was taken in Merrin’s stronger grip, sucking one of the fingers deep to the knuckles, curled tongue embracing every rough surface. The elder shot _down at him_ an assertive glance in response to his surprised stare, so dominant that the aforementioned fantasy unfolded once more: bent over, taking a cock deep into his ass, hands fixed on his hips with no escape. As if reading his mind, Merrin nudged a second finger into his mouth with a little thrust. A hitch in Karras’ breath. A smile slowly and surely into Merrin’s lips. Desperate, Karras scooched to his calf, positioned his bulge and the moment he grinded his legs actually locked around it, his free hand reaching for Merrin’s, grasping his fingers —

Merrin’s hand moved. In an instant, his neck was imprisoned with fingers, his head shoved back, and his eyes forced to stare into the older one and the amused smile. His hips jerked but could find no more of the salvation.

“Who else in the world could know you can be so naughty?” The elder priest sounded admired, while his dark eyes scrutinized him like a predator to a prey. Karras could do naught but react: opened mouth with heavy pants, startled but delighted eyes. Like a prey.

Soon the other’s voice took a dark turn. “And you’ve been pretty quiet the whole time.” His head swayed as Merrin reached, acquired more toilet paper, and roughly and thoroughly wiped his chin. “Even then you weren’t pretty mouthy as we read the rites, so why don’t you tell me what has been going in your mind the whole time, when you were sucking your fingers, palming yourself. What made you desperate to grind at my own feet?” A rough swipe across his mouth. “What made you sit there, eating away your own fingers while riling up yourself? What kind of thoughts would make you so desperate like this, aroused to the point of craving for a need so immense and capable of erasing your rationale?”

Karras’ hands flew up around his wrist and travelled to its fingers, but squeezed in affirmation rather than prying it apart. His eyes opened wide like those of a puppy’s, while a whimper came out of his mouth. Aside from that, nothing changed.

“Hm?” Merrin prompted, shifting his fingers to wipe the throat. His thumb shifted by Karras’ windpipe, which the other man quickly stopped and pressed down.

“I want you to fuck me.” At last, he regained his words.

The other got up, sat down on the ground, and shifted his hand to support his head, as the tissue cleaned more thoroughly, gently. “How so?”

“Fuck me in the ass. Bend me over the bathtub and stuff your release inside of me.” His voice was dry as if dehydrated, whose cure was not water. Oh heavens, how he wanted someone to fucking grope him everywhere right now, but he must mind the courtesy. “Please put your cock inside me. Please stroke mine as you thrust into me. Please grope me everywhere you want as you ravish me and fuck me like no tomorrow.”

“Filthy words for a clean mouth.” Merrin tapped his cheek with the tissue amusedly.

Karras inched closer, licking his lips hungrily. The opposite lips just looked just so mouthwatering. “It feels like I haven’t been touched for centuries anyway.”

Merrin smirked briefly. “And quite a state you’re in.”

The next thing Karras knew, he was facing the insides of the bathtub, knees on the hard tile outside and hands splayed to support himself on the porcelain interior. He cried with a gasp — There were hands unzipping his pants and gripping tightly his engorged and veined organ. His ear was heated by a huffing breath, his hips rendered immobile by an unyielding grip.

“How long have you been depriving yourself? It would’ve been a prettier sight to see you touch yourself while sucking my cock.”

“Since the beginning! _More, please!!_ ” He could not stroke himself or they would lose balance. He tried with his hips, wanted to thrust into the tight grip, but remained trapped.

“Forgive me, but you look beautiful like this.” His restraint came free as his ass was groped instead, fingers hooking his pants and tugging it down, creeping in, in … until it reached his rim and circled. He exhaled audibly, shaken. What a cruel reminder of his sensitive opening.

“Dammit …” he involuntarily responded. Remembering his movement was freed, he thrusted his hips with all his might, but the grip on his cock let go. “Damn…!” Now what he wanted was even further out of reach, his clothes weighed him down, he was stretching and felt like suffocating drowning desiring _burning_. He didn’t care anymore, just wanted to fulfill his own body, just could those fingers please poke in a little, even an inch if it meant touching inside, or could someone please cup his cock or give it an opening to fuck into, or could someone fuck his useless mouth or stuff a finger inside it to muffle its moans and whimpers. Oh God, everything felt too hot, until a new weight pressed down, a hand folded his shirt collar, and a mouth licked and bit his damp neck. He tilted his head, welcoming more of it, as another lewd noise rumbled deep in his throat.

“Your sounds are enchanting. Do you know that?” Words vibrated, sending trembles into his skin and nerves. Teeth frictioned against his callused flesh. Lips moved peppered kisses to his working jaw during his constant whine.

“N … No.”

“Does the thought of me driving deep inside you excite you this much?”

 _A cock filling in, burrowing deep, pulling out, slamming back in_ … He whimpered. Yes, yes, of course. “ _Yes._ ”

There was a shift; he felt freer, but only for a while. “Want to be beneath me, taking my cock for all your pleasure, moaning and looking pretty like the doll you are?”

Something touched him from behind. “Yes … father, I presume?”

“Lankester. Spare me the formalities.” Deeply drowned in his desire, he sensed something touching his edge, and along with that, a dim salvation. “But whatever fits.”

Then he could feel it went _in_.

All the way.

“Damn, you are that aroused.”

With a moan, he lifted back his head and rolled his head, because how could he not?

_It feels so good. It felt like Heaven. Fuck me like a slut, please; fuck like I’m only for you —_

His hips jerked repeatedly and vigoriously, and indeed, it felt fucking good. Merrin chuckled into his shoulder. “You’re fast.”

Ignoring him, he kept doing it. Finally, here was the relief, here was the satiation, his needs were being met, his body was in absolute ecstasy, throaty groans burst out over and over —

His hips stopped in their tracks as firm fingers locked around them. “ _Slow_ , _down_. Dammit.” Still he struggled, until a palm pressed down, hitting his chest with the bathtub’s threshold. “Down, boy.” Something hard and broad slammed deep, pulling another moan out of him.

Two hands joined his on the smooth tub, more wrinkled and veined and bigger, sliding just right in between his fingers. One of them slipped away, wrapping its fingers around him, which was veined and soaked. A warm breath returned by his neck, even warmer as a pair of lips kissed once more with the embellishment of a strategic and recurrent lick by a tongue … while a dick was going in and out of him, while his own was stroked, engulfed, leaked. Merrin had a slight colder grip, he dimly noted, while his own was hotter and more by each minute, rising with arousal. His chest was heaving. His mouth opened as if wanting cock, leaking filthy vocalizations. He had never seen this beast of his own before, so unashamedly out in the open and compelled into a vulnerable state by its desires.

His mind blanked. His eyes closed. He drowned in the void-like bliss. His head leaned back, and the kiss advanced up to his earlobe then down and covered a broader area of his neck. Along with the motion he rocked, always off rhythm, bumping into a sturdy stature dressed in a smooth fabric.

It went on like this for what seemed like an eternity. So this was what it’s like to be fucked: giving the other control and trust, whereas himself trapped beneath, resigned to receive the pleasure in dizzying yet delicious doses, relinquishing his rational mind to primal impulse. Being fucked … over. And over.

His cock was getting warmer and warmer.

He was close.

He was close.

Merrin sounded like a perfect name to call.

As if reading his mind, the grip stroked faster.

Faster faster faster, self-placed constraints in the name of purity stripped away, and hums in his throat escalated, louder and louder.

His moans became more and more frequent and dragged into a loud groan as he came, the same time Merrin held his hand tightly.

The pleasure was so much that he mewled some more.

Then, complete silence.

The embrace felt like solace.

Until Merrin pulled out, turning him around by the shoulders. “Let’s get you cleaned up.”

Karras with his aid seated on the ledge. His legs felt paralyzed. “Thank you.” _What an irony that I am the one being supported._

“You’re welcome.” Merrin kneeled before him and took his dick into his mouth — licking much of the moisture gathering at the tip. Karras jumped, choking out a gasp.

But the other's mouth remained. It advanced right to the brim, sealing its lips tightly, and retreated to the tip, lips puckered to suck and lick. Rinse and repeat. The tongue tickled and pleasured, flustering him. Pink in the face, he hid his face with one hand, the other brushing past the white hair in its frantic flurry. “A-ah —”

Just as he choked out, the mouth stopped its pattern and rubbed its tongue midway, bobbing a little so he could feel the entire lips. Oh, it was overstimulating, it was intoxicating, with the fact that his mentor was kneeling before him and teasing his cock. He was not supposed to think about that, but it made his moans hungrier, his shame weaker, his pride stronger. Fidgeting his hips, his shoulders jumping, his hand reached, petted Merrin's head, and stroked the soft hair. Merrin responded with an advance and a cough, which was deliberate given the further stimulation and arousal, placing slim hands on his knees in one motion. Karras risked a glance: his eyes were closed in ecstasy.

Merrin pulled out, but not before a final lick on the tip, and moved his hands to tuck it back in. “Can’t let this keep dripping, you know.” He explained so casually yet licked his lips as he turned around for toilet papers.

Karras nodded. He finally could move now. A sliver of fluid gleaned in the electric light, as long as the decorative panel’s entire height. There was also one at his most recent position, and some white ones on the ground, where earlier on he was on his knees. Fortunately, they cleaned them in time. Those were still wet and easily wiped. Afterwards they still needed to purify themselves, with soaps and hand sanitizers.


End file.
